


Masterpiece

by orphan_account



Series: Bad Things [1]
Category: Daft Punk
Genre: Body Horror, Gore, Masochism, Sadism, Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-02
Updated: 2014-06-02
Packaged: 2018-02-03 03:09:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1728824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Everybody keep calm and try and keep your children calm...They're not crying from pain. It's just a little bitter tasting. They're not crying out of any pain." - Judy Ijames/Joyce Touchette, adressing parents feeding their children cyanide at Jonestown mass suicide</p>
            </blockquote>





	Masterpiece

**Author's Note:**

> First surreal Daft Punk fic. This has a lot of dark stuff, so I tagged anything that could bother someone. I'm sure it's not as weird as I make it sound if read by the right person, but it's still horror, so I hope I made it suspenseful enough.

     There is only a body, belonging to no one. It could be Thomas, Guy, or any other android of their model. Its head is cast out from view, maintaining anonymity. Guy watches it like a movie, silhouetted against nothingness. It is completely naked, a canvas ready to become beautiful.

Someone's hand reaches towards the body, carrying a knife: to whom it belongs is unspecified but the black fabric suggests robotomy. Whoever it is makes an incision down the torso. "Ohhh  _yes._ " Is said by the body's owner. Its voice is metallic but otherwise indistinguishable. It gasps as the cut deepens and more are made across the arms and legs. " _Please_." It begs. A long cut across the arm, then the thigh, hands, stomach, and so on. The tortured is in great pain and ecstasy. Its skin is soon in tatters. By this time it is screaming, in both delight and pain, or a mixture of both.

Red makes its debut and a heart is lifted out from nowhere. The words "I bless you with humanity." are said by a stoic voice. The organ is fresh, it drips with blood and looks as though it's still pumping. It's held over where the robot's heart would go and nailed into place. Two hands now, how _fancy._ Next come the lungs, still holding someone's last breath. Then stomach, with its pink and bloody texture. Followed by liver, intestines, kidneys, and on and on. Every last bit of humanity is tacked into the machine, like it's always wanted. "Don't stop." It says.

The last of its artificial 'skin' is removed. It drips with blood, completely bare and gorgeous. Veins are added one at a time, starting at the limbs and tacked throughout the body. The robot's carborator is whistling in protest, reacting poorly to the beauty being bestowed upon it. The robot is saying "Hurt me tear me apart make me yours."

When muscles come it can only scream. The robot squirms and cries under each nail, letting out moans if its attacker dare pause for a moment. There is not enough tissue to cover everything, when the ordeal is finished it's closer to a hodgepodge of blood and guts than anything resembling a human being. **  
**

Skin next. Just like the muscle, only messier. There is more of it, spread out unevenly across the body, like a human left unfinished. The robot's circuits finally give out. _Good riddance, at least it died happy._  The head finally comes into view and Guy sees that the creature is himself. The corpse is disgusting beyond belief, it oozes with everything under the sun.

The mutilation was never meant to actually make Guy human, only to rub it in his face.  _Here, this is humanity, this is what you always wanted, isn't it?_ Guy's dream ends on the corpse, like curtains closing on a play.

He wakes up, taking a minute to realize the entire thing wasn't real. _Isn't it though, if I believed it was, lived it in my own mind?_ Guy lays in bed, spooning his boyfriend after a long day of producing. Thomas is trembling, it seems he's had a nightmare too. It's still the middle of the night, they're plugged in to the wall and one another. The two always interface while making music in order to create a more steady flow of thought, and often forget to unplug. Guy nudges Thomas, who turns around to face him. "I just had the most horrible dream. Someone was cutting me open and stuffing human organs inside." He says, wrapping his arms around Thomas. The silver robot nods and puts his hands on Guy's hips, clinking their helmets together. "I had it too." He says. "We forgot to stop interface before bed." Whilst connected they share thoughts, emotions, pain, pleasure: and evidently, dreams. "Are you scared?" Thomas asks. Their bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. "Yeah." Guy replies.

"You know I'd never let anyone else touch you."

"Heh. I know."

"I can't sleep."

"Me neither." Silence follows, but not for long.

"You want to fuck?"

"Yeah."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

They caress each other up and down, Thomas tops Guy and grinds their hips together. The gold is about to reach for their pleasure cables (on the nightstand where they've always been), when Thomas stops him. The taller robot is digging his fingers into Guy's chest. The other accepts it as Thomas's awkward attempt at being kinky, but it quickly gets uncomfortable. "Stop that, it hurts." He says. Thomas ignores him. His fingers are clawing aggressively, leaving scratches on Guy's skin. "Seriously, quit it." Guy says again.

Thomas grabs the hardest thing he can find- a stainless steel picture frame on the bedside table (beautiful photo inside, their trip to america from last summer) -and strikes Guy across the head. He's still grinding and gasping, much to the other's horror. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?! Get off of me!" Guy says. As much as he's squirming and yelling Thomas is too strong for him, and the dire of his situation sinks in. Thomas finally tears a hole in his chest and he realizes he's being assaulted.

Thomas has pinned Guy's arms down with his knees, but at least he's stopped trying to be sexual. Guy is too small and chubby to fight back, anything he does is fruitless. The skin on his chest is being torn off in long strips and it is agonizing. He is crying and wailing for freedom, begging Thomas to let him go: "Please this isn't like you you're hurting me you're hurting me!" Thomas is tearing at vital processors, if this continues Guy may die.

Guy racks his brain for something to save his life _._ He remembers a TV show about martial arts he saw once, scrambling to remember what it said about self-defense.  _When pinned, attempt to push your enemy off by shooting your hips upward._  Guy does so, no dice the first time. The pain in his chest spreads like fire but he tries a second, then a third. On the fourth Thomas's knee slips and he frees his arm. Thomas grabs it but Guy punches and grabs at anything he can. He is lucky enough to grab his lover's helmet, tugging it off and hitting him over the head with it before being forced back into his original position. It's a small victory and almost gives him hope. Before he can celebrate Thomas is laughing and something hits Guy in the head; three times, putting him to sleep.  _Jinxed it._

He wakes up and something's gone horribly wrong. He's not in bed and it's dark, but for some reason that makes him happy. Guy doesn't know how long he's been away from consciousness, he is weak and his body feels heavy. It takes him a minute to figure out he's been chained to the wall. He's dripping with something chunky and his entire body aches. He is not as he once was, but couldn't be more proud.

A light comes on and he's in his bedroom, there's blood everywhere and faint screams can be heard in the background. _This doesn't bother me, why doesn't it bother me, why does this bring me joy?_ His body has been cut open and mutilated, it's not until his visual sensors adjust to the light that he realizes his dream has been made real. Organs have been nailed into him, messy and perfect.

Thomas did this. Realizations hit him faster than he can process them: Thomas has reprogrammed his personality to be masochistic (whoever he once was is now driven only by intense desire to be abused), and has killed many people. Niether of them will never be the same again, for better or worse.

Speak of the devil. "Hello." Thomas says. "You're welcome." He wears the same pajamas from when he attacked the other, splattered with blood. Guy has never loved him so much. "You've made me beautiful." The victim says.

"You've always been beautiful, you're just mine now. My trophy, a display of love for all to see."

"I couldn't be happier. It's perfect."

"No, no, it's not. You don't have enough organs. I didn't have enough time, I'll never be finished. I had to do it when you saw my vision, when you had the dream, I had to do it then or you would've found out."

"Hush. It's flawless."

"Does it hurt?"

"Oh god  _yes_." They clink their helmets together, closest they can get to a kiss.

"You were special, I saved you for last. You're my legacy, my masterpiece."

"May I stay like this forever?"

"Heavens, no. I'm not done with you yet; I suppose I never will be. We've only just begun."

"Thank you."

"Do you want to fuck?"

"Please."

"I love you."

"I love you more."

They make love to the sounds of a man dying, and spend their lives in blissful abuse.


End file.
